Dreams of Flame
by TheSilverSleeper
Summary: Merlin can't sleep. Ever since that day, the nightmares are only getting worse. As his measures to keep himself awake become more and more extreme, will anyone be able to save him from himself? A three-shot. Warnings: Drug use, some disturbing content
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have one of my cousins to thank for this piece. He stayed awake for four days straight at work, keeping "focused" by practically inhaling an IV of five-hour energy drinks. Because yes, he's a ****_complete and total turniphead._**

**Warnings: I am considering changing the rating T for the squeamish, but hopefully it won't get that graphic. There will be lots of angst, some disturbing content, and a lot of references to drug use (albeit magical).**

**Disclaimer: I actually do own Merlin. But instead of a sixth season, I decided to write fanfiction in which I torment Merlin in dozens of new and creative ways.**

* * *

For the first time since he'd met him, Merlin was grateful to Arthur.

"Liquid Fortitude," Gaius called this potion. "Clotpole Juice," Merlin called it. Because really, he was pretty sure the sole reason they kept it in stock was in case they were attacked _again_, and Arthur got himself injured _again_, and yet still insisted on staying at the frontlines of the battle like a complete and total clotpole… _again._

Maybe it was unfair to say he'd never been grateful to Arthur. But Merlin was quite certain he'd never been grateful to him for about anything of this nature.

Waiting for Gaius to clear out of his workroom so he could filch the bottle had been the hardest part of the plan so far. After all, there were only so many times he could "just have forgotten something in my room!" or "had a few moments, so I thought I'd see if you needed anything." Short of causing some kind of medical emergency –which Merlin really did _not_ want to do; he wasn't _that_ desperate– he wasn't sure how he was going to manage it in between his normal running around for Arthur. Especially since today, at least, it seemed Gaius was quite content to just putter about his workbench, brewing up potions and antidotes and who knew what else.

Finally Merlin gave up and decided to wait until his mentor went to sleep for the night. It wasn't like he'd _never_ snuck around the place while Gaius slept on his cot before, completely unaware to the goings on in the rest of the room. Finding the potion in the dark, well, that was a trifle more difficult, but the moment it was in his hand Merlin immediately fled back to his room, closing the door softly behind him.

Merlin held the tightly bottle in the palm of his hand. Arthur loved this stuff. It made him feel like he could fly forever, when only moments before taking it he'd have been ready to fall to the ground and never get up. Gaius had to warn him time and time again it was only for use in desperate circumstances, when he had to keep going no matter what. If he could get in so much as a five minute rest during a fight, he wasn't to try to use it.

Merlin was in desperate circumstances.

He'd held out, he really had. He'd done everything he could. But the end of the line was coming, and if he let go, he was in for a long drop with a sudden stop.

They had started a couple weeks ago. Well, no, if he was being honest they had started when he was just a child, but his most recent troubles, _these_ had started (16 days, 11 hours, and 21 minutes ago. 22 minutes ago. 23 minutes ago) after that terrible day. The one that was bur– etched into his memory forever.

He'd begged Arthur. He'd never begged harder for anything in his life. But it hadn't done any good, and Arthur had told him every time before he even started it wasn't going to do any good. And maybe in the end Arthur had been right. Maybe Merlin's pleas really had done more harm than good. Because Uther found out about them. And he wasn't happy.

It was all Arthur could do to stop Uther from throwing Merlin in with the rest of them. Luckily for Merlin, Arthur's begging skills were much better than his own.

Unluckily for Merlin, they weren't quite good enough.

So he'd been there. He'd been made to watch. And he would never forget it, not as long as he lived.

There had been eight of them. Five were men, but there was also a woman and her two children. The children had been too sick to run when the camp was attacked, and she would not leave them. So they'd been caught, them and their protectors. Arthur had not been there that day. Merlin was glad. It had become hard enough to look Arthur in the eye these days already.

He'd never seen a mass pyre before. It turned out size didn't matter. It didn't burn any faster. It provided relief no quicker. It didn't make the screams any less unbearable.

And Merlin could do nothing. Had been forbidden from interceding by Gaius, who had been out of his mind with fear Uther would simply toss him over the rail of the balcony onto the pyre while it burned. He couldn't even close his eyes. He felt he owed them that much. He could not save them. But he could let them know someone still stood with them.

The men had done their best to try to hoist the children as high as their bound hands could manage. They knew they could not save them, not entirely. They only meant to ensure they suffocated from the smoke, instead of having a chance to feel the flames. He'd seen the marks around the children's necks when they came out, black and blue and horribly, terribly hand-shaped. Merlin had heard from Arthur that they'd had to separate the children into different cells: the adults had attempted to strangle them.

It was time for Merlin to do his part. Perhaps he could not spare this people any more than Arthur could have. But he could finish what those men could not. Turning away slightly so that none could see, he allowed his eyes to briefly glow gold. The flames of the pyre began to grow higher and hotter. The smoke grew thicker, creating a haze throughout the courtyard. With another small glow, he condensed the haze, so that it hovered only over the pyre. It was still agonizingly long before the heads of all who stood there began to droop, before their screams were heard no more.

Arthur allowed him to flee. He didn't ask where he'd gone, nor berate him for not returning until nightfall. When Merlin helped him prepare for the night, he didn't try to draw him into conversation, just gave him a list of duties for the morrow and let him go.

Merlin didn't sleep that night.

He couldn't. Visions of the pyre danced in his head, and the screaming rang in his ears. No one could possibly sleep over all that screaming.

In the morning, he took Arthur his breakfast and woke him, once again going about his routine in silence. Arthur gave him a few concerned looks but didn't press it. He reminded him of what he needed to do for the day and left him to it. Merlin went about his chores in a haze, throwing himself into each task with every fibre of his being. By the time night came around and Arthur, who was starting to become less tolerant and more annoyed by the new silent Merlin, ordered him away for the night, he was exhausted.

Sleep came easily. But it did not stay easily.

Merlin woke to Gaius standing over him, face streaked with alarm. "Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin did not reply for a moment. He wasn't sure he could quite breathe yet. Finally he nodded. "What happened? Why'd you wake me up?"

"Merlin… you were _screaming_. I was worried you were going to wake the entire castle."

It took another five minutes to convince Gaius that he was quite alright; it was just a nightmare, nothing serious; he was fine; he'd be out like a light again if he'd just leave him alone.

Merlin sat on his bed, back against the wall, knees pressed against his chest, for the rest of the night. He did not go back to sleep.

For the next two nights he had done that, simply sitting in his room through the night, listening to the screams in his head. He'd had to start talking to Arthur again. Once he'd done that and flashed a few of his signature smiles, Arthur had been quite content to leave him be about the whole thing.

But eventually he'd had to go back to sleep.

Once again his dreams were filled with flames and children and screaming. They would cry for his help and he would be frozen to the spot. He would be forced to watch as Arthur laughed merrily while they burned. And it wouldn't be until Gaius stood over him, wrenching his shoulders back and forth, that he would realize that half the screams he was hearing were his own.

Gaius had refused to leave him alone that night, making him move out to the cot normally reserved for patients out front. Merlin been forced to lie there the rest of the night, feigning sleep that would never come. It had been harder to stay awake that way, though. His body was exhausted, and so was his mind, even if he was determined to deny it rest.

He made it through another two days before he'd been forced to give in.

This time he'd planned ahead, though. He'd known he wouldn't make through the night. His entire body had been shaking all day. He'd had to excuse himself from attending Arthur for the night, claiming he didn't feel well. Merlin knew if he got that close, Arthur would be able to see the barely concealed tremors. He wasn't _that_ stupid. Arthur let him go, telling him he really did look awful and to get some rest; he couldn't have people thinking he was running his manservant into the ground just because he was too much of an idiot to take care of himself.

Merlin heaved the rucksack over his shoulder. There was so much less in it than he normally carried, only a light blanket and a change of shirt just in case, but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. _He_ felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. His feet dragged as he forced on in front of the other, and how he managed to get out of the castle without being noticed, he would never be able to tell in a million years.

He didn't go far. He was sure he didn't have to. No one would be out here. When his body decided to give up and collapse upon the ground, he decided this place was as good as any. He didn't pull the blanket he'd brought out. Instead he dragged the sack underneath his head and knew no more.

There was no one to tear him from his nightmares tonight. He'd known that would be one of the consequences, but he couldn't make Gaius worry about him any more than he already did. His mentor didn't deserve that. So tonight when he was no longer rooted to the spot but running to help, the pyre somehow growing further away with every step instead of closer, there was no one to stop it from happening.

He spent the next few days like that, stealing away to the woods as soon as Gaius fell asleep every other night to scream his terrors to an uncaring sky. After the third time, however, he knew he couldn't do it again.

This time, they had all been there. Everyone who knew and everyone who didn't. His mother, Will, Lancelot, Gaius, Freya. Gwen and Morgana and Arthur. The little druid children. Every man, woman, and child from his village. And they were being engulfed in a ring of fire.

And it was because of him.

"For the crime of harbouring a sorcerer, you have all been sentenced to death!" Uther had decreed.

But not Merlin. Merlin had been made to watch.

"This is what your magic has done, boy. You have been plagued by fire, and so they must die by fire."

Merlin's screams could have woken the dead. But unfortunately, not even they were close enough to hear.

That was the night that had brought him to this, stealing dangerous potions from Gaius's stores. But it had been four nights since his last _very_ interrupted rest. Four nights, and Merlin was afraid he couldn't make it another one.

_One more. One more and maybe then it will be gone. It has to go away_._ It has to_.

Merlin's hands were practically convulsing as he raised the bottle to his lips. He only took a sip. He had to make this last. It wasn't like Gaius gave this stuff out every day. He would notice if too much was gone. But the sip was enough, at least for now. Merlin could feel himself relax the slightest bit as the energy coursed through his veins. Then he went to go sit in the corner of his room, in what he had judged as the most uncomfortable spot, curled up in a little ball, and rocked himself back and forth until morning.

By the time the sun had risen, over half the bottle was gone. Merlin hadn't meant to do it. He could have sworn he was going to ration it better than that. But it kept wearing off so fast, much, much too fast. Making a decision, he downed the rest of it, praying it would hold him off for the rest of the day. He'd have to come up with some way to get more. Perhaps there was some kind of replication spell in his book. Or better yet, a spell for keeping himself awake period. He felt silly he hadn't thought to look there first before resorting to consuming a dangerous drug, but it wasn't like he was exactly thinking straight.

Before he left to wake Arthur, he slipped over to the potion rack. Another bottle made its way into his pocket.

_Just in case._


	2. Chapter 2

"Arthur, we need to talk to you."

Arthur gave an inward groan as he heard the voice from behind him and steeled himself as he turned around. Those words were never good. "What now, Morgana?"

Morgana simply crossed her arms, ignoring his tone. "There's something wrong with Merlin."

Oh that. Arthur knew _that_. What, exactly, he had no clue, but if there was anything normal about the way his manservant was acting, he would eat his chainmail. But for the sake of his pride, he wasn't about to let Morgana and Guinevere know that he had no idea _what_ was wrong. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"

"You have to fix it, of course!" she snapped. "What have you done to him to make act so… _not Merlin?_"

"What makes you think it's my fault?" Arthur cried, although he knew it probably was. It usually had something to do with him. Why, Merlin had gone into a sulk just the other month because he threw_ water_ over him. But he knew what Morgana meant by "not Merlin." Merlin often got twitchy. Whenever there was danger, but Merlin didn't want to admit he was scared –which Arthur would never admit, but he admired just a bit– the boy became increasingly tense and would jump out of his skin at the slightest provocation. This was a bit different than that. Arthur wouldn't call him twitchy this time but… _flinch_y. Like he thought the very shadows were coming to get him.

"Just talk to him, Arthur. You do it, or I will." She swept away imperiously, Guinevere in her wake.

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what kind of threat that was. Honestly, he would _prefer_ Morgana talk to Merlin. She was a woman; she would be much better at this whole… _feelings_ thing.

Merlin had woken him up that morning with his usual grin, bantering with him a bit before slipping out the door to do his chores. Arthur hadn't really noticed anything different from the past few days, but then, the past few days had been anything but normal. Perhaps he was a bit more _animated_, but that wasn't a bad thing, surely? Arthur wasn't really sure where Merlin was supposed to be at the moment. Unless he had something specific for the servant to do, he usually just handed out a list and trusted him to get it done. Probably poorly, but it would get done. Merlin was oddly reliable that way.

Finally Arthur tracked his manservant down in the armoury, where he remembered he'd sent him to polish his chainmail for an upcoming tournament. The door was slightly ajar, and a voice drifted out. Arthur immediately recognized it as Merlin's, and the boy sounded strangely panicked. Perplexed and hoping he might mention what was going on with him, the prince leaned closer to listen.

"No, you can't be here right now!" A pause. "Because it's too dangerous! If Arthur finds you, he'll kill you!" _Wait, what? Who is he talking to? Who could Merlin possibly be __**afraid**__ that I was going to kill? Surely he knows by now I only attack those who are a danger. Wait, is Merlin in danger?_

Arthur peered carefully into the gap, but he could see no one else in the room with the servant. Merlin himself appeared to simply be staring at a suit of armour hanging off an old training dummy, whispering furiously at it, wringing his hands anxiously.

"I promise, I'll come see you. But you have to go. Please, before someone comes!"

Then Merlin was moving for the door. Quickly Arthur slipped away and into a shadowed alcove. Merlin's head popped out, and he glanced back and forth down the now empty corridor. Then he ducked back into the room.

"Come on. I'll help you sneak back out."

When Merlin appeared again, his hand looked like it was supposed to be wrapped around another, slightly stretched out, like he was dragging another person down the corridor. Arthur watched in horror. _Oh my… Merlin's gone insane._

Arthur couldn't let Morgana talk to him. She'd panic, and so would Guinevere. He would have to handle this on his own.

Or maybe not quite on his own.

He ran to Gaius's chambers, only to find them empty, a note on the table. "_Merlin, Gone to deliver medicines in the lower town. Don't wait up for me. Make sure to eat some supper and __get some rest__. Gaius._"

Arthur noted the last part was underlined three times. Well, at least he and the girls hadn't been the only ones to notice Merlin's strange behaviour. But did Gaius know how far gone his ward really was?

When night came, and Merlin didn't bring him his evening meal, Arthur began to worry. He sent another servant, not fetch him his food (he wasn't sure he could eat anyway), but to fetch him his manservant, and still Merlin didn't appear. It wasn't until it was time for him to prepare for bed that Merlin slipped in the door. And by slipped, the proper word was stumbled and practically fell flat on his face.

Arthur had to work hard to stop himself for confronting Merlin right away. If Merlin really was having hallucinations, then the prince's normal brusque manner was probably not the way to go about things. He didn't have Merlin help him change, slightly afraid to have the mad boy touch him, instead making an excuse that he wanted him to stoke up the fire for the night instead.

Arthur had turned away after he said it, or he might have noticed before it was too late.

* * *

Merlin had always been afraid of fire. Ever since he was a little boy and he learned that the punishment for being magic like he was was death, he had been terrified of every way that that death could come about. It was why he constantly wore his neckerchief, like he could somehow tether his head to his shoulders. It was why his most skilled tricks were with flames. He had worked hard, trying to bend them to his will, to turn them from beacons of death to ones of hope.

It had been years before he would go near the fireplace in his own home. His mother had been forced to tend it. He had spent those years racked with guilt over how she was affected by his fear, but nothing could bring him closer. By the time he had left for Camelot, things had been better. He could start fires, and he knew he could stop them. He had even managed to hold flame in his hand. He would never like fire, but he had learned to control it.

But Merlin's control at the moment was tenuous at best.

He crept up to the fireplace like it was a raging beast. And in his mind, it _was_ a raging beast. He hadn't made it to midday before downing the entirety of the other bottle in one go, and then only an hour later he'd gone and gotten another two and drank them as well, double-fisting them, not even caring if Gaius spotted him, then tucking another in his pocket for later. Manufactured adrenaline was coursing through him, and he wasn't even sure he could feel his heart racing anymore.

The potions had increased the hallucinations. Before they had been only mild annoyances that crept at the edges of his vision, just _there _enough to make him strain not to turn and acknowledge them. Now they stood right in front of him, mocking him. He'd even given in to them for a moment that afternoon, when Freya had appeared before him in the armoury. The vision of her nearly had him out of the castle before he remembered. That had been just before he went for even more potions.

He was certain the trembling in his hands had definitely turned into full-on convulsions by now, but he was still safe. Arthur was keeping him at a distance, far from a chance at discovery. But maybe safe wasn't right. Arthur wanted him to go near the fire.

He wanted him in the fire. Arthur wanted him to die.

_No. Stop. You're being ridiculous. That's the hallucinations talking._

Merlin forced himself to take another step closer to the flame monster. It was reaching out towards him now, trying to draw him into its fiery depths.

_No, it's not. It's just a fireplace. It's not going to hurt you_.

He grabbed hold of the poker and took another step. It was calling to him now, and the voices were the voices of children.

_Don't listen. Don't listen, don't listen, don'tlistendon'tlisten!_

But then the faces appeared, and suddenly the children were emerging from the flames, grabbing hold of them and dragging him in. They were still screaming, and amidst their screams came the voices, mingling and growing, the ones he had heard in his head that day, the ones no one but him could hear, the ones he was doomed to hear forever more.

_"Why, Emrys? Why didn't you save us, Emrys?"_

Arthur had stood behind the screen, not changing, just thinking. What on earth was he going to do? Should he tell his father? But what would he say? _"Oh, by the way, Father, my manservant has lost his mind?_" Uther wasn't heartless. Arthur knew a lot of people thought that, but he wasn't. He would let Arthur help him, so long as it served no risk to Arthur himself.

But risk or not, Merlin was one Arthur was willing to take.

When the screams started, Arthur ran out from behind the screen, not entirely sure what he was expecting. Merlin cowered underneath his table, waving the poker wildly about in front of him like a sword. Arthur ran to him, dropping down beside him, trying to avoid being hit.

"Merlin! Merlin, what happened?"

"Arthur, what's going on? We heard screaming."

"I don't know, Morgana! Just stay back! He's having some kind of fit."

Morgana, of course, did not stay back. She knelt by Arthur, taking in the sight before her. Merlin stared blankly through them, fighting the demons only he could see, still screaming incoherently. His face was gaunt and pale, huge dark circles ringing his eyes. His entire body was quaking. "Merlin? Merlin, it's alright. It's me. It's alright. No one's going to hurt you."

She kept talking, reaching her arm out to gently grasp the poker, working her hand along it until she touched Merlin, wrapping her fingers carefully around his wrist. Then she used her other hand to wrench the poker free, quickly handing it to Arthur, who tossed it aside like it might bite him. Morgana then eased herself under the table next to Merlin.

He had stopped screaming when she touched him, but kept babbling, the stream of words too low and quick for her to make any of them out. Very gently she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close, ignoring the sweat that poured of him. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest and pressed two fingers to the inside of his wrist like Gaius had once taught her. It was like a dying hummingbird lived there, faintly, furiously flapping its wings, trying to escape from under his skin.

"I sent Gwen for Gaius when we heard the shouting," she told Arthur softly, rocking Merlin back and forth. He didn't try to pull away, didn't even seem to notice she was there, just kept mumbling under his breath.

"He's not there," Arthur replied, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. "I checked earlier. Morgana…" he paused, not sure if he should tell her. Then he sighed. No point in hiding anything now, not with Merlin having a complete breakdown in her arms. "Earlier today he was talking to someone… someone who… _wasn't there_."

Morgana frowned deeper and returned to making soothing sounds, which Merlin ignored. She rubbed her hands up and down his arms. They were freezing, despite how much he was sweating. "Arthur," she whispered, "help me move him closer to the fire. We need to warm him up."

At first Merlin was perfectly willing to be moved, so long as Morgana kept her voice low and gentle, assuring him that everything was okay. But then he seemed to notice where they were taking him, and he went berserk.

Morgana was hurled away as Merlin ran, flinging himself out the doorway and down the corridor. Arthur spared Morgana a glance to make certain she was alright –she was already bounding back to her feet– before lunging after him, chasing after the servant and praying no one would pass by at this moment. Thankfully no one did. He was even more grateful they went unseen when Merlin's fleeing took him into Morgana's chambers. Arthur followed him as the boy flung himself behind the bed.

It seemed Merlin had not flung himself behind the bed, but collapsed there. He was trying to scramble underneath it when Arthur caught up to him. Arthur gripped his ankle, meaning to drag him back out, but the instant his fingers closed around him, Merlin shrieked, causing Arthur to immediately let go, terrified he had somehow hurt the boy.

Merlin crawled to the back of the bed, forcing Arthur to grab a candle from the nightstand so that he could still see him in the dark. His mumbling was getting louder now, but was as quick as his breathing, so that Arthur wasn't even sure how he was doing both at the same time. His eyes had rolled up into the back of his head, and Arthur was starting to worry –and hope– that he was simply going to pass out.

Arthur reached towards him again, but Merlin shrank back, looking like he was going to try to escape from the other side of the bed. Arthur decided to set down the candle and try for another grab and ignore the screams this time, but Merlin seemed to anticipate his action, bolting out in the other direction. Morgana, however, was waiting for him, tackling him when he emerged and pinning him to the wall.

The force of hitting his head there seemed to daze him a bit. The flow of gibberish slowed, though his breathing did not, and he began to scrabble at his clothes, producing a small bottle of reddish-orange liquid. Arthur lunged for it, snatching it from the boy's hands before he could raise it to his mouth.

"Merlin, what is this?" He didn't receive an answer, and he hadn't really expected one. But wait, he _knew_ this potion… He kneeled down by where Morgana held him, back to his quivering, sobbing state. "Merlin, listen to me, how many of these have you had? This is important, Merlin, now _answer me. How many have you taken?_"

"Arthur, stop it, he can't–"

"NosleepI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryCan'tsleepWon'tsle epI'msorryI'msorry"

Morgana and Arthur both stared, horrified, as his words became just a bit clearer for a moment.

"Arthur, what's wrong with him?" she whispered.

"I don't know! I don't know, Morgana!"

"What is that stuff?"

"It's… imagine how you feel right now, putting that in a bottle." That was how Gaius how explained it to him, when he had warned Arthur about why he couldn't just take it whenever he felt a bit worn out and needed a boost. "From the way Merlin is right now he's had…" Arthur fished in the servant's pockets, discovering three more bottles. _Cripes, Merlin…_ There was no telling if there were more he just didn't have on him.

"But, but _why_?"

"I told you, _I don't know_…"

Gaius rushed into the room, trailed by Gwen. "I'm sorry; I came as quickly as I could, and then you weren't in Arthur's chambers like Gwen thought you were… What happened?"

Arthur and Morgana explained the mad dash about the room, the suspected hallucinations, the bottles of potion they'd found in his clothes, all while Gaius examined Merlin, who cowered into Morgana's side. The physician sent Gwen running to his chambers for the things he didn't have on him.

"Get him onto the bed." Together Arthur and Morgana lifted the quaking body, gently laying him on top of the bed he had tried so hard to hide underneath. Merlin refused to let go of Morgana, so she sat next to him. "Arthur, I need you to massage his neck, right there in that spot. We need to slow his heart rate. Right now he's courting a heart attack."

Arthur did as he was told, though his hands were shaking at this news. _Merlin, what have you done to yourself?_ Merlin flinched as Arthur went to move his neckerchief out of the way, but Morgana kept talking to him softly, reassuring him.

Guinevere returned with Gaius's supplies. Gaius immediately dunked a cloth in the cold water she brought and draped it around the back of Merlin's neck. "Take some more of these and wrap him in them. Make sure you get his wrists and his armpits." The physician knew he ought to put a cold cloth on his ward's groin as well, but with ladies in the room he hoped these precautions would be enough. "I need some light. Gwen, could you start a–"

"No!" Arthur and Morgana cried at the same time. Morgana clarified softer, with a brief glance at Merlin, "He panicked last time we tried to move him closer to the one in Arthur's room."

"Well, I need to check his pupils. Hand me that candle."

"NO!" Merlin screamed suddenly, trying to rip himself from Morgana's arms. She startled, her arms jerking back as she tried to keep him down. Luckily all of those gathered in the room were so focused on Merlin they didn't even notice as her eyes glowed gold; they only noticed when Merlin collapsed once more, finally unconscious.

"Gaius–"

"I'm sorry, sire, but I don't know for certain. I can only tell you what I suspect."

"Then tell us that!" Arthur knew he was begging, but at this point he honestly didn't care.

"Last week, Merlin started having nightmares. I've had to wake him several times when he started to get too distressed. They seemed to stop, but I could tell he still wasn't sleeping well. I think… I'm afraid Merlin hasn't slept at all these past few nights. The side effects of doing so are such as you have described, including the possible visions. If he hadn't been sleeping well in the time before this started, he may have been taking the potion in an attempt to keep himself awake longer. And there's no telling how long before today he's been taking it without anyone noticing."

"But why would he do that?" Arthur felt like tearing his hair out. A nightmare. Merlin was killing himself over a _dream_. He'd known his manservant was an idiot, but really, this took the cake.

"Gaius," Morgana whispered. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Are Merlin's nightmares… are they anything like… _my_ nightmares?"

Arthur reached for her hand. She flinched a bit at his touch before allowing him to take it. Of course, he was being insensitive _again_. Morgana had been plagued by nightmares for years; she would understand the terrors that they brought.

Gaius understood her meaning far more than Arthur did, which, of course, he was meant to. "No, my lady," he replied gently. "Merlin's, I fear, are of a slightly different nature."

"What can we do to help him?" Arthur was willing to do anything, _anything_, so long as he never had to witness that again.

"For now, the only thing we _can_ do is get him to rest. And ensure that _these_" he indicated the bottles of potion with a look of utter revulsion "are as far away from him as possible."

"Merlin can stay here for the night," Morgana volunteered, running one hand through his damp hair. "I don't mind. Moving him all the way back to his room might wake him. I'll sleep in the antechamber."

"If my father finds him here…" Arthur shook his head gravely. Merlin was in enough trouble as it was for the moment. "We'll bring him to my room. It's closer than his own, at least."

"Uther won't come in here in the middle of the night. It'll be fine. Gwen and I will look after him."

Gaius checked his ward's pulse again, grateful to find it much stronger and slower than before. "Lady Morgana is right. Moving him might wake him and send him into another panic. I can give him something to induce a deeper sleep, but I would prefer that the rest he gets is natural. We'll take him back to his room tomorrow when he wakes up."

"It'll be _fine_, Arthur," Morgana repeated. "Go to bed. You need sleep of your own, too, if we're going to figure this out tomorrow."

Arthur hesitated, but eventually he nodded. "Come get Gaius and I if something happens. Send Guinevere. I'd… I'd prefer to keep my father out of this."

"Of course." Morgana rolled her eyes. Did Arthur really think she was that dim?

Gaius and Arthur left the room, leaving the girls behind with the unconscious servant. Gwen went to go prepare them a place to sleep in the antechamber while Morgana sat with Merlin, who still had her in a death grip even in sleep. His eyes darted back and forth under the lids, and his face was screwed up as if he was in pain. Morgana frowned sympathetically. Gaius said he didn't think Merlin's nightmares were the same as hers, but then, he'd denied the truth of what hers were for years. He still did, actually; only Merlin was willing to call them what they were.

Was it possible Merlin was like her?

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**A/N: ****_And_**** this magically becomes a three-shot! Because I didn't think I could do it justice in two, and I didn't want this chapter to get too terribly long. Also, I never intended when I first started for this to be a magic reveal of any kind, and I'm still not entirely sure it will be. Leave your opinions in reviews which way you think it should go!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I debated long and hard about how this last chapter was going to go. It took me ages to decide whether or not to do a magic reveal. I'm pleased with the results, though, and I hope you are, too. I almost made the ending really sad, but I wasn't sure how it would be interpreted, so I made it slightly less sad. Still not sure if you'll get what I was going for, but I'm hoping so!**

**And I agree with all the reviewers: I love nice-Morgana, too! So sad how all the S1 and S2 fics I've read usually tend to leave her out completely other than a brief mention.**

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Chapter 3

Morgana supposed it must have been the years of taking care of her during her bouts of nightmares that allowed Gwen to fall asleep so easily beside her. She certainly couldn't. The sounds of Merlin tossing on her bed in the next room were much too loud and concerning to ignore. Gwen had had to tear her away to get her to come into the antechamber and lay down.

What kind of nightmares could have driven the poor boy to go to such lengths to keep himself awake? Her own dreams were terrible sometimes, yes, but she had never considered not sleeping. In fact, she had gone to the other extreme, taking draughts to induce deeper and deeper states of unconsciousness, even with a growing knowledge that they wouldn't help. Could that be why Merlin had chosen the opposite approach? Having seen the failure of her attempts, had he decided to try something new?

The muttering was getting louder. Morgana sat up, peering worriedly around the corner. Gaius said he'd had to wake Merlin before when he had gotten too distressed. But then, he'd also said he needed as much rest as possible. How was he supposed to rest if she had to wake him up?

But then how was he supposed to rest if he was terrified every time he closed his eyes?

Morgana slipped out of the covers, careful not to wake Gwen. One of them at least ought to be able to sleep. She'd call for her friend if she needed her to run for Gaius or Arthur. Hopefully things wouldn't get so bad again. Getting some sleep, even for just these few short hours, had to have helped the hallucinatory effects of the potion wear off a bit, right? She padded over to the bedside, brows stitching together in a frown as the same words from earlier tumbled forth. "Sorry… I'm sor- I'm sorry… I can't, I'm sorry…"

Morgana sat on the edge of the bed and took his clammy hand in both hers, rubbing it with a thumb in an attempt to calm him while he still slumbered. "Shh, Merlin, it's alright. Just sleep; it's okay." He didn't still. She wondered if it was because her voice was trembling as much as his body.

A glimpse of something silver on her nightstand caught her eye. Morgana reached over and picked up the bracelet the mysterious Morgause had given her. Her most recent dreams at the time had been extremely terrifying, involving fire and dragons and the deaths of strange men and… not-so-strange men. She was willing to do anything, _anything _to make them stop. The woman had claimed it had healing powers. Morgana wasn't sure about that, but whatever it was, the bracelet had worked for her, chasing away her terrible dreams and granting her her first restful night in ages. Could it work for Merlin?

It was worth a try. Morgana gently began to ease the bracelet onto the boy's thin wrist, breathing a silent prayer as she did so. It would not do to banish his nightmares only to startle him awake with the touch of cold metal. When the band was fully on, she lowered his arm again, keeping an eye on his face to see to watch for the strained lines to smooth.

Instead squeezed eyes snapped open, swirling molten gold. Merlin bolted upright with a scream, the arm with the bracelet shooting forward. Without a word, the fireplace at the foot of the bed burst into flame. Then he scrambled backwards in the bed, panting, eyes which were once more blue wide and panicked.

"Merlin, calm down, please! It's just me; it's just Morgana! Shh, calm down; you're all right!"

Merlin continued to take heavy breaths, his eyes darting frantically around the room before landing on her, but he seemed to be in no danger this time of running off. Gwen, however, did come stumbling into the room, finally woken by the noise. "Merlin, my lady, are you okay?"

Morgana glanced quickly at the now blazing fire before turning her attention back to her maid. She trusted Gwen with her life and always had, but she had long since decided it wasn't fair to put the burden of keeping her secret on the girl, not when harbouring it could cost her her life. And it certainly wasn't fair to her or Merlin to ask her to keep Merlin's, especially when Merlin didn't currently have the wherewithal to make a decision in that regard.

"I'm sorry; it was my fault. I didn't want him to get cold. I thought it'd be okay since he was asleep, but I must have woken him."

Both of them stared at her, Gwen with a look of sympathy and Merlin with a mix of fear and incredulity.

"Would you like me to put it back out, Merlin?" Gwen asked kindly. She smiled at him as though he were a young child spending his first night away from home. "I could sit with you a while if you like until you fall asleep."

Merlin twitched his lips upward gratefully, though an embarrassed blush stained his all the way down his neck at her tone as he realized where he was. "I'm fine; thanks, Gwen. You should go back to sleep. Both of you." He made to slide off of the bed, but Morgana stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"You have to sleep, too. Gaius's orders. You need rest, Merlin."

His eyes widened, scandalized. "But.. But Uther–"

"Won't find you here, I promise. Now lie back down and don't even think about trying to leave this room again. Those are _my_ orders." Merlin obeyed reluctantly, allowing Morgana to push him back onto the pillows. "He's right, though, Gwen; you should go back to sleep. I'll stay and keep an eye on him for a while to make sure he actually does as he's told."

Gwen curtseyed. "Yes, my lady." She gave Merlin another concerned smile and extinguished the fire with a nearby bucket of water before re-entering the antechamber.

Merlin turned his gaze on Morgana and as she adjusted to the now dim light she could make out the fear that still hid there. It was clear he was expecting her to say something now. Instead she shook her head carefully, tilting her head towards the room where Gwen lay. Yes, they were going to need to talk, but it would have to wait until they could do so unobserved.

Suddenly Merlin winced. His eyes drifted down to his wrist, which was still encased by the silver bracelet. His other hand shot around to wrench it off, but Morgana placed her own over it, stopping him. "I thought it might help," she whispered. "It made my nightmares stop, so I hoped it might do the same for yours."

"It-It's not helping," he stammered, doing his best to keep his voice low and continuing to scrabble at her fingers to try to pry it off.. _Nightmares? How does she know about my nightmares? Oh God, what happened? This is bad. This is very, very bad. She knows. Worse, she __**knows**__. Does Arthur know? Oh God. Oh God. I have to get out of here. She's the king's ward. I'm going to be killed. I'll be burned, just like those druids._ He wasn't sure how much of his panic was induced from lack of sleep and how much was from the waves of magic he could feel emanating from that thick bangle of metal on his wrist. He could tell it was doing _something_ to him, he simply he no idea what. Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't curing his nightmares.

Morgana sighed in defeat. "Just relax. If it's bothering you that much I'll take it off. Doesn't do much good if you're awake anyway, now does it?" She peeled it from his skin and set it back on the nightstand. Merlin could feel himself relax measurably as the foreign magic moved away. "Better?" He nodded. "Alright then. Now, do you promise not to run away if I go and wait with Gwen until she falls asleep?"

He nodded again and watched as she slipped into the antechamber. What was the point? If he ran, he would have to _run_. There was no other choice now. And to think, all this time and he was caught not because an act of bravery, but because of his cowardice. Because he was too scared of being killed himself to save his own kind from the flames.

He had plenty of time to dwell over his fate while he waited for Morgana to return, but he didn't really see the point in that either. And he certainly wasn't going to actually try and sleep like she and Gwen and probably everyone else –_Oh God, don't even __**think**__ about everybody else right now_– wanted him to. The last thing he needed was to have another nightmare in someone else's presence. Especially after what had happened this last time. What if next time he accidently set the whole room on fire like Morgana once had? He had a feeling he wouldn't –he was in much better control of his magic than Morgana was –and he suspected his little flare-up (pun _definitely _unintended) had been the result of the odd magic bracelet Morgana had put on him.

Oh, but he was so _tired._ His adrenaline from being startled awake was wearing off quickly. That would not do. Merlin leaned forward reached into his pockets.

They were empty.

Frantically he patted them down, desperately trying to deny what his fingers were telling him. No, they had to be there. He had put them there; he knew he had.

"They're gone. Gaius took them."

Merlin's eyes snapped back up to where Morgana stood in the doorway of the antechamber. Her face was not filled with pity, which might have destroyed him, but confusion and a strong hint of anger.

"What were you thinking, Merlin? Apparently you could have killed yourself, did you know that? Gaius was afraid your heart might stop. Arthur was nearly beside himself with worry, and so were the rest of us for that matter. What could you have possibly been seeing in your dreams that would be so bad you would feel the need to do that to yourself?"

Merlin considered not answering. For all of eight seconds, he considered not answering. Then he let out a sigh. This was Morgana. Perhaps if she were Arthur he might be able to get around it. It was almost like Arthur _wanted_ to be lied to. But Morgana had had enough lies in her lifetime. She would stand for nothing but the truth. And she had figured out enough of the truth about him now that things couldn't get much worse by him confirming it.

But that didn't mean he could stall the embarrassment a little longer.

"How did I get here?"

Now the anger dissipated and was replaced by the same sympathy that had covered Gwen. "You had a bit of a… well, I guess you might call it a minor breakdown, while you were in Arthur's chambers. We chased you into here, and you collapsed. Gaius said it was best not to move you, so here you are." The stern anger returned. "He said it was because of those potions you were taking because you were trying not to sleep because you were having nightmares. What were the nightmares about, Merlin? Come on, you can tell me."

"I…" Merlin picked nervously at the hem of the coverlet, then, deciding it was probably much too improper for him to do so, switched to the frayed ends of his own sleeves. In a breath barely loud enough to be heard, he whispered, "I keep _seeing_ them. _Hearing _them."

Morgana took his hand gently to try to calm him. "Who, Merlin? Who do you keep seeing?"

With stilted tones he explained it all, from learning about the capture of the druid camp to begging Arthur to stop the execution from happening. How his constant pleas had gained the attention of Uther, who had been convinced that Merlin needed to learn a lesson about the dangers of sympathizing with sorcerers. How he'd been forced to watch and do nothing as innocent lives were lost before him.

Merlin's voice became even quieter when he came to the part of how they cried out to him in his mind, pleading him to stop their pain. He wasn't even sure he could finish telling how he had controlled the fire so they would die quickly. The more he talked the more the images started to appear before his eyes again, the voices clamouring around his skull, begging for his attention. He was afraid if he did, however, if he gave in to them for just one moment, he might slip into another "minor breakdown."

"Merlin," Morgana said forcefully, though not unkindly, drawing him out of his mind again. "Merlin, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped it -no, don't give me that look. If you had tried, Uther would have simply thrown you into the flames with them, and you know that."

He didn't have anything to say to that, because yes, he did know all that. He knew it, had known it, but it didn't help.

"You shouldn't have had to watch that. Darn it, it shouldn't have even happened in the first place. But, Merlin, afterwards, you shouldn't have kept this to yourself. You should have told someone. You don't have to do this alone." Morgana squeezed his hand. "I told you after I went to the druids that I wasn't scared anymore. And that was true, mostly. It was because I was able to actually _talk_ to someone about everything. I think you need that, too, Merlin. Someone to talk to. And you have that. You have me and Gwen and even Arthur."

Merlin opened his mouth to contradict her on _that_ regard, but she cut him off. "I know there's some things you can't tell them. But you could have told me, at least. You were there when I need you, Merlin. What made you think I wouldn't be there for you?"

Now she actually did pause, expecting an answer. Merlin could see the hurt in her eyes. He knew the answer she expected. _You're the King's ward. Uther would kill me in a second._ She couldn't know the real reason he was forced to hide from her. Could never know. _The dragon told me not to trust you. I don't know why. He just told me to lie to you about your magic. And Gaius did too. Like everyone knows something I don't._ "H-habit, I suppose."

"I think it's time to break some of those habits, hmm? Starting with you getting some sleep. Just close your eyes and try to relax. I'm going to stay right here next to you, okay? And if either one of us has a problem, we're going to tell each other, promise?"

Merlin nearly opened his mouth to protest, but the warm feeling spreading across his chest stopped him, and instead his lips curled upward in a wan smile. "Promise."

When Guinevere opened the door for Arthur the next morning that was how he found them, curled up fast asleep next to each on top of the coverlet, with no evidence of what had happened in the hours of the night before other than the recent tear tracks on Morgana's face and the silver bracelet which still lay abandoned on the nightstand.


End file.
